it, the other into
a large and beautiful garden. Out of the dining-room you pass through an
entry into the kitchen, which is rather small for so large a house. In
this entry are stairs which you ascend, at the top of which is a long
gallery fronting the street, with six windows, and opposite to each
window you open into the chambers, which all look into the garden.

But with an expense of thirty thousand livres in looking-glasses, there
is no table in the house better than an oak board, nor a carpet
belonging to the house. The floors I abhor, made of red tiles in the
shape of Mrs. Quincy's floor-cloth tiles. These floors will by no means
bear water, so that the method of cleaning them is to have them waxed,
and then a manservant with foot brushes drives round your room, dancing
here and there like a Merry Andrew. This is calculated to take from your
foot every atom of dirt, and leave the room in a few moments as he found
it. The house must be exceedingly cold in winter. The dining-rooms, of
which you make no other use, are laid with small stones, like the red
tiles for shape and size. The servants' apartments are generally upon
the first floor, and the stairs which you commonly have to ascend to get
into the family apartments are so dirty that I have been obliged to hold
up my clothes as though I was passing through a cow-yard.

I have been but little abroad. It is customary in this country for
strangers to make the first visit. As I cannot speak the language, I
think I should make rather an awkward figure. I have dined abroad
several times with Mr. Adams's particular friends, the Abbes, who are
very polite and civil,--three sensible and worthy men. The Abbe de Mably
has lately published a book, which he has dedicated to Mr. Adams. This
gentleman is nearly eighty years old; the Abbe Chalut, seventy-five; and
Arnoux about fifty, a fine sprightly man, who takes great pleasure in
obliging his friends. Their apartments were really nice. I have dined
once at Dr. Franklin's, and once at Mr. Barclay's, our consul, who has a
very agreeable woman for his wife, and where I feel like being with a
friend. Mrs. Barclay has assisted me in my purchases, gone with me to
different shops, etc. To-morrow I am to dine at Monsieur Grand's; but I
have really felt so happy within doors, and am so pleasingly situated,
that I have had little inclination to change the scene. I have not been
to one public amusement as yet, not even the opera, th